What War Does
by Mad Hatter Usagi
Summary: When Roderich gets uncomfortable with Gilbert's closeness to his fiancé, he passes off his drafting to Gilbert, who can't stand seeing Elizabeta with him. When the war ends, five years later, he returns. The old pain is revisited, but it's not like it was ever truly forgotten. T for stuff. R&R please! PruHun


Gilbert and Elizabeta have always known each other. They met when he was three and she was two, but their first memories were of the two of them playing together on Gilbert's mother's kitchen floor as their mothers chatted at the table. So it was always to them, their presence was a constant in a universe of possibilities and change. They were the truest of friends.

Gilbert's mother had raised him and his younger brother alone since his father walked out on them when he found out that she was pregnant for the second time. She left too, involuntarily, when Gilbert was sixteen and Ludwig was seven. She had died of brain cancer. The older brother had to go to care for his younger brother, taking jobs after school, on the weekends, and all during their breaks. Even so, they were poor and Gilbert was throwing away his youth so that his little brother could have one.

Elizabeta grew up in a rich household with parents that strived for manners and regality. Their daughter slowly changed from the playful tomboy to the reserved lady that they wanted her to be. Except when she was around Gilbert. She tried to make time for him in their high school years, but their schedules clashed and they hardly ever saw each other.

Roderich, a handsome, young, wealthy, concert pianist moved into town right after they had graduated high school. After meeting at a party, Roderich and Elizabeta became infatuated with each other. After a year of dating, the musician popped the question, to which Elizabeta replied with a "yes". Although safe in his romance, Roderich was jealous of the silver-haired man because Gilbert had grown up as a friend to his fiancé.

One night, after a date, Roderich brought Gilbert up by saying, "Your friend...what was his name again?"

"Do you mean Gilbert?"

"Ah, yes, I have to say I don't like you being around him."

"Why not?" Elizabeta sputtered.

Her fiancé shrugged and said, "He's obviously in love with you, you can see it when he looks at you. Being around him so much might make him think that you feel the same, and you don't, right?"

The woman shook her head slowly, "No, we are just friends. We don't see each other much anyway, he has to work a lot."

"So you won't see him anymore?"

Elizabeta shook her head, looking at the floor. A tight feeling passed over, like someone had a grip on her heart, and she felt like that someone might be Roderich. She would have to give up her friendship to be with her love.

* * *

Roderich stared at the letter in his hands. Since the war started, more and more men had been drafted for the war effort. He had just been drafted. He would have to leave home and fight for his country, or else hire a replacement. As he thought about it, a devious thought popped into his head.

He dialed Gilbert's phone number and waited until he picked up with a, "Hello?"

"Yes, Gilbert? I've just been drafted, and I was wondering if you would take my place."

"What?" Gilbert asked incredulously, thinking of his brother, who would be left alone, and of Elizabeta, whom he hadn't seen in a little while.

"Well, I'll pay you a large amount of money now, and when you return. I'll also provide for Ludwig in any way needed, and pay for his replacement if he's drafted."

After a pause, Gilbert asked, "Is this about me being Lizzie's friend?"

"Yes and no. I do worry about your intentions to my fiancé, but I also don't want her to be heartbroken when we were just about to marry. After all, _we_ are in love, and _you_ are merely a childhood friend."

Gilbert left the line silent for a few minutes until he replied, his words clipped to hide emotion, "Okay. I'll do it. As long as everyone thinks that I've been drafted, not that I'm taking your place."

"Report to the train station in a week. They'll tell you where to go from there."

* * *

"Don't go, Gilbert. What am I going to do without you?" Ludwig asked, standing next to his brother's bag at the train station.

"Go see Roderich and Liz, I'm sure they'll help you out. You're smart enough to do well without me anyway. Fighting is just about the only thing I've ever been good at, you know? I've been drafted anyway...I'm needed somewhere else, not here." Gilbert shrugged, like he couldn't help it.

"And you aren't even going to tell Elizabeta that you're leaving? How do you think she'll feel?"

"She'll be fine! She's got a fiancé, and she's too happy and occupied with her wedding for me now," Gilbert snapped, true sadness flashing to his eyes.

"Are you doing this just avoid seeing her love someone else? Are you sure you don't want to say goodbye?"

"No, Ludy, I was drafted. Plus, I bet she'd get all mushy and weird," he replied sternly just before the train's whistle howled through the air. "Goodbye, bro," he whispered as he hugged his nearly in tears brother.

As he pulled his bag onto the train bound for basic training, and his brother walked away, he whispered again. "Goodbye Lizzie, I love you."

* * *

A knock on the door roused Elizabeta from her book, prompting her down the stairs and to the foyer. The green-eyed girl still carried her book even as she opened the door to see Ludwig, who looked like he was about to cry.

"Ludwig? What are you doing here?"

"Gilbert was drafted, and he just left," the blond boy said.

The woman instantly threw her book at the wall in anger. "How dare he? He didn't even say goodbye? Doesn't he care at all? What about my wedding? What about our friendship!?" She screamed.

Ludwig winced, "He...he said that he didn't want a mushy goodbye, and he didn't want to bother you when you were so wrapped up in planning your wedding."

Elizabeta bit her lip and sank to the floor, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I wasn't too busy to say goodbye to my best friend..."

* * *

Elizabeta and Roderich married, and soon after Ludwig moved in with them at Roderich's request. After finishing school, Ludwig began working for a man in town. The newlyweds weren't happy though, mostly due to Elizabeta who grieved for her friend. Gilbert was presumed dead, since he hadn't sent a letter once since he'd left.

Five years after his departure, the war ended. Young veterans surged back into the town, scarred and smiling, for the moment anyway, as they came home. A slightly familiar young man hopped off the train carrying a bag full of old uniforms, a couple of pictures of family and friends from home and the military, an old wallet, a watch, and a couple of souvenirs from some of the places he'd visited. The badges and medals he'd earned lay at the bottom of his bag, unlike the other men who paraded around with them pinned proudly to their chests, hoping to gain attention from the young women in town.

His silver hair was a little shorter than when he'd left. His red eye was darker from the memory of all the carnage he'd witnessed, and the other was missing. A thick strip of black cloth-covered his left eye and some of his face, although the edges of white scar tissue peeked out. In general he just looked older and haggard, but still remarkably handsome and smiling as he stepped back onto the platform to his hometown.

Gilbert strolled out of the station to the street, where cabs waited to take the soldiers wherever they want. He hopped in one, tossing his bag across the bench seat in the back. After giving the address to the driver, he rolled his shoulders and sank into his seat a little, relaxing. The drive was quick, but Gilbert told the driver to wait for him.

The yellow car switched off as he rang the doorbell, his army-issue bag dumped at his feet. He took the time waiting at the door to examine the patches that were sewn onto the sides. They told his story for him, tracking his and his regiment's journey through boot camp and across the world. Small swatches of clothing from his dead friends were sewn there too, something that him and a couple of his other comrades had begun doing after a man had died right next to him.

When the door opened, he was met with a maid who asked, "Who are you, who are you here for, and what are your intentions?"

"My name's Gilbert Beilschmidt, I'm here for whoever wants to greet me, and I guess just a visit."

"Gilbert?" The maid asked, her face pale.

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

The maid's trembling hand reached out and touched the soldier's shoulder tenderly before shrieking with glee and turning back into the house to get her mistress. Gilbert let himself in and shut the door behind him, walking through the house and trying to remember the floorplan that hid underneath darker, bloodier memories. He made his way into the sitting room as he heard heavy footfalls run about upstairs and three familiar voices converse with the maid.

Gilbert threw his bag down on the couch and pulled his cell phone out of the bag. He dialed a friend of his and it picked up after only a few rings.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Francis, you home yet?"

"Oh hon hon~ No, I've had to make a few stops to spend the night with a couple of the pretty girls I meet on the train. They love a man in uniform."

Gilbert laughed, turning his back to the doorway and his face toward the window. "And I thought you were bad on our tours."

"I can't help if I turn people on, Gil," Francis's lecherous voice teased. "So, have you spoken to Toni yet?"

"Nah, I figured if he's gotten home then I don't want to interrupt him and his precious Lovi's reunion. If he's not home, I don't want to deal with him yammering on about finally getting to see Lovi again," Gilbert said, partly serious and partly joking. The three familiar people walked into the room quietly, but he was too busy talking to hear them.

"So have you gotten home yet?"

"Well, I'm back in town at least. Haven't talked to Roderich, Liz, or Ludy yet, but I'm at their manor."

There was a pause on the other end before Francis said, "I hope it doesn't hurt to see her married."

"I've seen a lot worse in war. If I can't deal with it, then there's obviously something wrong with me."

"That's quite obvious by now, mon ami. Now, if you don't mind, I've got to get back to giving it to a nurse."

Gilbert laughed again and said his farewells before ending the call. He turned to see three sets of eyes staring at him. "Er...hello," he said awkwardly.

"Wh-what happened to your..." Roderich stammered, pointing to his eye.

Gilbert touched the cloth as if he'd forgotten he had it for a moment before answering with a shrug, "Grenade shrapnel. A friend of mine took most of it, but I got hit mostly on my eye. Took me a lengthy surgery and a month in the hospital to be sent back to my squadron. I was luckier than my friend, because I actually lived."

Ludwig sat down near his brother, not knowing what to say. He just wanted to be close to him now, after almost five years of thinking he was dead. Elizabeta on the other hand had a look of pure fury on her face. "Why didn't you write? The army gives out paper for that stuff, right?" She asked angrily.

"A combination of different things. I was too busy, we were always changing location, I never really saw the point, and I used the paper for other things. I used mine for paper airplanes and score sheets when we played cards. I gave some of it to my friend Antonio, too. He liked to send long love letters to his boyfriend back home, so my friend Francis and I would lend him some extra paper."

"There was a point to it, you idiot! Letting us know you were _alive_ for one! We thought you were dead! I thought that I'd lost my best friend for almost five years!" Her voice quivered with sadness and fury.

"If I had wrote, what would I say? That I was watching my friends die? That we would hook up with the girls from occupied towns? That the hospitals were complete shit? If I had wrote, it would have been about things that you wouldn't want to know."

Elizabeta walked up to him and slapped him so hard that the sound of it echoed. Yet he didn't even flinch, instead he smiled "I don't know if it's the nerve damage or if my commanding officer slapped harder, but that was just weak."

His love stormed off, out of the room and up to the master bedroom. She collapsed onto the mattress and started bawling into her pillow. She was so relieved and furious and ecstatic at the same time.

Back downstairs, Roderich asked, "So, do you have a place to stay? You can stay here, you know."

"I've made arrangements to start renting at apartment in town," he dug a slip of paper with an address on it and handed it to his friend's husband, "Here, you can visit if you like."

"All of your things from your old house are in storage here. I moved here when house payments got a bit tough to pay," Ludwig said.

"I'll go through it later."

"Why don't you want to be here, with me and Elizabeta?" His little brother asked.

"It's been a while since I've had any proper privacy, Ludy. I've slept in the same area as fifty other men for the past five years, I need my space," he said. It was a lie. He really just didn't want to be around Elizabeta and Roderich because it would break his already fragile heart.

"Anyway, I better go. I've still got a few things to do," Gilbert grabbed his bag and smiled at the two other men before just walking out. He directed the cab to his new apartment, after a quick stop at a store for a six-pack.

While he got settled in his nearly empty apartment, the man felt the weight of his tours and unconfessed feelings collapse on top of him. The letters that he had never sent lay in a hidden pocket inside his bag. Each and every one, one for every time he had a near-death experience or felt terrified, told of his fear, anger, and crippling regret. He hadn't wanted to die without telling her. Gilbert hadn't ever sent them though, he was even more afraid of her reaction, since she was married.

Tears slipped down his cheeks as he drank his beer. His mind wandered from Elizabeta to his dead friends. The loss he felt whenever he watched them fall and the slow growth of that red flower across their clothes. His pain intensified when he briefly thought of the pile of medals in his bag, ones that praised his courage and valor when he hadn't been brave enough to throw a grenade away from his friend, or block a bullet, or push a friend off a mine.

He had seen more than deaths in the line of duty though. He had seen his friends push bullets through their heads and hang themselves from the rafters and overdose on pain medication. The horrors of war touched not only the body, but the brain. He didn't know how to act anymore, and he had already experienced waking up to put his hand instantly on his gun, only to point it at the wall, or a friend. He lost so much time with those he loved, so he wasn't really close to them anymore, just a familiar stranger.

But now, at least, he was alone, he thought. He was away from anyone who truly mattered to him. He had angered the woman he was desperately in love with and had left his brother in the hands of the man who practically drafted him when he pressed exactly the right buttons to send him on his way. Surprisingly, he found that he didn't hate the rich man, he was just jealous and sad.

As the last drop of beer leaked into his mouth, Gilbert layed back on his bed. The numb buzz that he was gifted with comforted him as he drifted to sleep. His mind went fuzzy and blissfully blank as unconsciousness abducted him.

* * *

The sound of his door being knocked on woke him. His hand shot to the handgun he'd set on the nightstand the previous night, making a quick arc across the room before he realized that the banging wasn't the sound of war. Gilbert let out a slow, even breath and set the gun down before getting up. His racing heart eased as he made his way to the front room and pried open the door.

Elizabeta stood there, looking impatient and gorgeous in Gilbert's eyes. She pushed past him, into the apartment, without a word. Her eyes blazed with anger as he shut the door and followed her silently.

Without prelude, she launched into speech with, "I thought you were dead, you know. It hurt so bad when you didn't send word. I didn't know what to think, but that was the only logical reason to me, since I was so sure that you'd contact me somehow. I thought we were friends, and then you leave without saying a word, and then you don't try to talk to me for five years!

"I missed you, Gil. You were who I thought of when I got up in the morning and went to bed, and most of the in-between, for all these years! You, and your sudden disappearance. Not my husband. Not your brother. Not being a good wife. Not anything else in the entire world consumed my thoughts. I scanned the list of the fallen, or the lost, or the prisoners every day! I thought, maybe they overlooked you or something...

"Roderich got sick of me. He's filing for divorce, which _I can't wait for!_ I thought I loved him, but after being so without you, I realized that I was wrong. I could finally see that you were the one I couldn't live without, the one that I loved. And...and...I only stayed with him so that I would have _someone_ there for me...and I don't even really want that. I want to leave him so bad, because it hurts so much now. Seeing you again just hurts because you obviously hate me since you didn't try to contact me and..."

Tears streaked her face as she uttered the last words. Her hands covered her face, embarrassment, grief, and immense sadness had consumed and exhausted her. She could barely stand, much less see the bewildered and love-struck look on the man standing across from her.

Gilbert closed the distance and pulled her hands away, forcing her to look at him. He smiled genuinely for the first time since he'd been home. "Don't cry," he said. "Please don't cry."

"But you..." She sniffled, staring up into his eye, which didn't look so repulsed or furious as she was expecting.

His arms wrapped around her, pulling the poor girl to his chest and letting her lean her cheek against his shoulder. "I don't hate you. I don't think it's possible for me to hate you."

"But you didn't-"

"Can you imagine how painful it was for me to watch you and Roderich together, when I had been in love with you much longer than you even knew him? Imagine me sending you letters, Liz, and getting back letters filled with you talking about him and married life and how much you loved him," he interrupted.

"I was hurting, Liz. I didn't want to remember that you were with him every moment I was home. So I got the chance to fill it with things that would keep me distracted, things that would keep my mind occupied with keeping me sane," Gilbert said and hugged her tighter.

"You...love me? Why didn't you say you were when we were younger?"

"I was poor! I had to work away all my free time just so Ludwig could have a decent life. I had no money to go on a date with you or treat you to anything. I didn't think that'd make me look very appealing, so I decided to hold off. Then Roderich came into the picture, and you looked happy with him, so I kept quiet."

Elizabeta stared up at him wide eyes right before he leaned down and kissed her. The silver-haired man whispered, "I've always wanted you to be happy. I just never thought that I contributed to that..."

"Of course you do. You always have, even if it's in the smallest ways. You make me happy, Gil. I love you."

Gilbert bent his neck to rest his head against her slender shoulder. He asked, "Even if I'm hurt?"

"Especially then, because you need it more," she answered surely.

* * *

((So this is what I've been working on instead of the other stories I should be. I don't even know if I wrote it very well, but I needed to get this out. Eventually I'll probably reread it and decide it's utter crap, just to write it all over again. I should probably get back to writing **_Again and_ _Again_**, or _**Deals**_, or **_Yullen 30 Day_ _Challenge_**, or any of the various one shots that I'm working on. But now I feel like I lack conviction, which sucks. I'm not sorry for the shameless plugs above, hehehehe... Anyway, please review, because reviews are food for me!))


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